


Walking Continents

by TheGoddessOfRegrets



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Africa, Angst, Antarctica, Asia, Attempted Sexual Assault, Australia, Central America, Conflict, Death, Dysfunctional Family, Europe, Family, Family Bonding, Family Drama, Family Fluff, Fear, Fear of Death, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Friendship, Gen, Humor, Implied/Referenced Character Death, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, India, Love, Middle East, Multi, Near Death Experiences, North America, Oceania, One Big Happy Family, Original Character(s), Pain, Parenthood, Past Character Death, Protectiveness, South America, Temporary Character Death, Violence, and the countries are their kids, continents, the continents are alive too, things get stupid
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-20
Packaged: 2020-06-28 00:40:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19801138
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheGoddessOfRegrets/pseuds/TheGoddessOfRegrets
Summary: Not long after getting into Hetalia, I began to think:What would it be like if the continents were also personified? What would it be like if they were alive and were the parents of every country? So, here is a collection of one-shots, and maybe some actual stories, all based around this concept. Hope my fellow Hetalians enjoy!





	1. When I Look at You...

**Author's Note:**

> In this chapter, Europe goes to visit his son, Romano. However, Romano seems to be in a gloomy mood. Why?

Europe was casually strolling through the city of Rome. He was hoping to see his son, Romano, for some quality time. Although he knew that the southern Italian valued his alone time, Europe was worried that the nation's excessive asocial behavior would cause more harm than good.

Sure, it was important to find time for yourself in order to relax and dive gently into complex thought. However, too much of this can drive someone mad.

After a good ten minutes of strolling through the streets, he made his way to a familiar house. His son's house. Now, he was unsure of whether or not the Southern half was even home because the boy often spent his time at Spain's house. However, according to Spain, Romano hasn't come over for the past four or so days, leading Europe to hope that the nation was simply resting in his own place.

Approaching the dark wood door, the large continent knocked three gentle times.

"Hello, Romano? Are you home? It's me, your father."

For about five seconds, there was no sound. But just when he prepared to knock again, slow, yet heavy, footsteps made their way towards the door.

Seconds after, the door slowly opened to reveal a disheveled and somewhat exhausted looking Romano. This immediately struck Europe with concern. Usually the southern Italian was more sharp and brash looking, and he at least put effort into his appearance, if anything else.

"R-Romano? Are you alright?"

The aforementioned nation just sighed. Eerily uncharacteristic.

"Just come in. It's hot as hell and we're wasting the a.c. holding the door open." Romano hissed out quietly.

Europe simply nodded and trodded into the house. As he heard the door gently click shut, he turned and looked over Romano again. The boy was definitely troubled. His messy outward appearance, his slouching and saddened body language, his eerie calmness and lack of sharp words, all of the signs were right there.

Europe knew all of his children like he knew his scars: very well, right down to the most miniscule detail.

Sighing to himself, he carefully stepped up to his son and placed a loving hand on his shoulder.

"Come," said Europe softly. "Sit down and talk with me". He gently nudged Romano towards the nearby couch in the livingroom.

Silently, the small nation sat down next to his towering father. He seemed like a toddler compared to his absolute mammoth of a parent. He slumped forward in a melancholic manner and rested on his elbows, his chin in his hands.

Europe shifted uncomfortably at the sad sight. This was not his Romano. After a few seconds of silence, he spoke.

"What's wrong Romano?" asked the concerned continent. Romano only sighed in reply.

"Nothing important. Don't worry yourself with it-"

"Romano. What is wrong?" Europe's voice was laced with worry and seriousness. He would not let Romano downplay his emotions like this.

Romano ran his hands over his face, wringing them through his hair before he sat back against the sofa with a deep breath.

"It's just.." he began. "I just feel...so meaningless. You know? I feel like I have no real purpose, like..like I could fade and...the world would be no different..."

Ah, so that was it. An existential crisis. Honestly, Europe was not that surprised. He was still concerned, but not surprised. Truthfully, someone as intelligent as Romano was bound to have many more of these throughout his life. Hell, Greece has had a good plenty himself. He just turned those crises into tools of self-discovery.

Letting out a sigh, Europe let his shoulders sag and turned to face his son.

"Romano, where is this coming from? Why are you thinking like this?"

"....Veneciano..."

Hm, his brother.

"What about Veneciano?"

"Just fucking, you know?" Romano's voice grew louder with irritation. "Veneciano, he's just f-fucking PERFECT!"

The southern nation jumped from his spot on the couch and began to pace angrily.

"Everything about him is just perfect, dammit! Everyone loves HIM, wants to talk to HIM, wants to be with HIM! Everyone wants HIM! Everyone calls HIM Italy! Never me! He's happy and good looking and talented! It's like I'm just deadweight, clinging onto him like a parasite that no one wants around!"

At the last statement, tears stung the corner of Romano's eyes and he gripped his hair tightly. Europe watched the whole tirade from his spot and let the words his son said wash over him. Placing himself in Romano's shoes, he could see clearly where the boy was coming from. He shook his head sadly. Standing up, he grabbed Romano gently by the arm and turned the nation to face him.

"Romano, I can assure you that your brother is far from perfect. There are many things that Veneciano doesn't have that you do, things he's not capable of that you are-"

Romano scoffed. "Like what?"

"Well, for starters," Europe began. "Although Italy can form complex thoughts, he can never communicate them. You can. This conversation we're having now is an example of that. You have admirable intelligence, Romano."

The Italian let those words settle, but gently shook his head with doubt. At this, Europe continued.

"You're also incredibly strong. You can deny it all you want, but you know it's the truth. You are very militaristic and powerful, you just choose your battles, which is very wise. Hell, you rule the Mafia! If that isn't powerful, what is?"

With these words, Romano looked slightly less doubtful, but hesitance still resided within him. He wasn't quite ready to accept his true worth. Europe went on.

"And I haven't even mentioned your looks-"

"What looks?" Romano hissed angrily. Surely his father was joking right now. "Italy's the cute one!"

"Yes, exactly," replied Europe, much to his son's confusion. "You're right, he is cute. But that's just it. Plain and simple. He's cute. Anyone can do cute, anyone can handle cute, but YOU?" He brushed aside some of the stray hairs from Romano's face.

"YOU are HANDSOME. And it takes a true master to handle handsome. Listen Romano, you don't just have looks. You have THE looks. The looks of the Empire".

At the mention of his grandfather, Romano froze and his eyes widened slightly with uncertainty. Europe looked into his eyes with nothing but pure truth and honesty.

"When I look at Veneciano, I see Veneciano. When I look at you..."

Slowly, the nation standing before him morphed into his long lost brother, a spitting image of the Rome.

"I see the Roman Empire."

With this information, Romano released a breath he didn't even know he was holding. His father saw Rome in him.

In Italy, his father saw Italy. In Romano, his father saw an Empire, THE Empire.

Romano was the empire.

"Understand this, Romano," Europe continued. "Veneciano may be a castle, big and flashy, something everyone wants to see. But you, you are the foundation. What is a castle without it's foundation? I'll tell you. Fallen. It is nothing but rubble and ruin. You are the thing holding Veneciano in place. He is nothing without you. You are not meaningless, Lovino. You have so much more purpose than even yourself can ever know."

Processing these words, Romano nodded in acceptance and looked up to face his father, who smiled down at him through his face mask.

"Good," stated the continent. "Now, come along. Let's go out for lunch. You pick the restaurant."

And with that, they headed out unto the streets of Rome.


	2. Birthday Traditions: Part 1 - Canada

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's Canada's birthday and North America visits his son to celebrate.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Small note: Human names start being used about halfway through. North America's human name is Jacob.

It was a cool Monday morning in Ontario, Canada. North America was driving through the peaceful streets, slowing down carefully as he crept closer to his destination.

"Ah, here it is," sighed North America happily.

Carefully, he pulled his car to a stop on a smooth, clean driveway outside a well-kept, large house. Crisp, fresh air hit his skin and filled his lungs as he slowly exitted his vehicle. Taking a look at his surroundings, he revelled in the serene nature of his son's country.

To his left, not too many blocks away, was a large, artistic sign simply displaying "Ottawa" in red and white letters. To his right was a simple array of well-kept houses, clean streets, and happy civilians. A small contented smile crawled its way onto his face.

Gently clutching his jacket, he looked to the clear, blue sky. It was like looking into a stream of melted turquoise gems. He prayed silently to Pangea that this day would play out as perfectly as he had planned.

Walking up the slim stone walkway, he made his way past various flowers and shrubs until he reached the birch wood door. North smiled at the adorable hanging maple leaf attached to it before taking out a small golden key and unlocking the entrance.

He wiped his feet gently on the welcome mat before officially entering the house. After stepping inside, he unzipped his jacket and hung it on an adjacent coat rack. He then took some seconds to observe the interior decor. Canada always had a sense for interior design. His decor was never too vibrant or irritating. It was never an eyesore and anyone who came in immediately felt welcomed, as if they were an old friend.

He cautiously tiptoed his way to and up the long, tall staircase, making as little noise as humanly possible. Upon reaching the top, he arrived at a short line of spruce wood doors. Calmly, he picked the one farthest to the left and carefully twisted the nob, silently entering. Once inside, he saw a sight that warmed his heart.

His sweet son, Canada, was sleeping tranquilly in his bed, red and white bedclothes gently wrapped around him as he silently snored. A small polar bear cub, Kumajiro he thinks, was lying on the large fluffy pillow next to his son's head. He looked like a furry pile of snow. As much as he hated to ruin the euphoria of it all, he had plans for the day. Shuffling quietly towards the bed, he set a gentle hand on Canada's shoulder.

"Wake up, Mattie," North whispered in a loving tone. "We have stuff to do."

Canada groaned sleepily as consciousness slowly washed over him. Opening his violet eyes slightly, he peered inquisitively at the large figure before him. If he had not been woken so gently, he probably would have panicked. But in that moment, his fuzz-filled brain was busy trying to process who this intruder was.

"Who's there?" Canada whispered curiously.

North chuckled. "It's me, Matthew, your dad."

At this, the northern nation sprung up in bed, nearly knocking his polar companion off of his pillow. A smile graced his now energized face.

"Dad!" exclaimed Matthew quietly in surprise. "What are you doing here?"

His father, Jacob, just smiled bigger.

"Did you forget what day it is?" replied Jacob with a giggle. "Don't tell me even YOU forgot your birthday!"

Realization instantly found its way onto Matthew's face.

"O-oh my goodness! I actually forgot about that!" Matthew sputtered, jumping out of his bed. His honey golden hair was a mess and he only wore white cotton pajamas with red maple leaves spotted all over them.

"What time is it even?" continued the nation nervously. He hoped he wasn't late for anything.

Jacob chuckled again at his son's worry.

"Don't get so scared, it's only 9:00 a.m. We're not late! We're actually kind of early."

"R-really?"

"Yes, we're fine, Mattie."

"Oh, thank goodness," sighed Matthew in relief.

"Yep," replied Jacob. "Anyways, now that you're up, go take a shower and get ready. I'll wait out by the car."

"Okay!" replied his son eagerly.

With a small grin, North America walked out of the room and waited outside while Canada hustled to get cleaned up.

In about ten minutes, Canada was ready. He quickly exitted his house, Kumajiro in his arms, locked his door, and jogged to his father's car. He absorbed the soft sense of familiarity as he sat down on the velvety seats.

"So, what are we doing first, dad?" asked Matthew politely.

Jacob raised an eyebrow and smirked. "Do you even need to ask? What do we do first every birthday?" The sarcastic humor was obvious in his voice.

"Pancake house?"

"Pancake house."

With that, they drove off into a nearby town.

"Hey, Mattie, could you give me directions to the pancake house again?" asked Jacob nervously.

"Again?" giggled Matthew. "Dad, we've been there like five times! You need to start writing them down or something!"

"Hey, I'm old! Cut me some slack!"

"Alright," sighed his son in obvious humor.

Jacob smiled. He knew the directions just fine. Hell, he could recite them forwards and backwards. However, he always asked Mattie to guide him. Why? Because of his face.

Matthew always made the sweetest, most adorable face while leading his father along. It was an expression that glowed with confidence. He only made this face when he felt he was being valued or useful.

For example, giving directions.

In the span of 25 minutes, they were at the pancake house. While Jacob only ordered a measely two pancakes, his son ordered a tower and a half! Jacob didn't even bother trying to count, but he couldn't hold back his laugh at the absurdity.

If there was one thing sweet little Matthew had in common with his brash older brother, it was his appetite. Sometimes Jacob worried that they would both eat themselves to the point of exploding.

As Jacob gingerly ate and sipped on his cup of French Vanilla latte, Matthew talked cheerfully about his year, Kumajiro, his government, his upcoming vacation, and hundreds of other things he can talk with his father about. Jacob liked that Matthew was so open with him, and Mattie liked that his father would pay so much mind to his every word.

They truly had a father-son bond you couldn't anywhere else.

Then Kuma interrupted the mood by stealing Matthew's cup of Mocha coffee.

Mattie wanted to be irritated, but he couldn't help but laugh at the confused little bear's whipped cream covered snout. Jacob soon joined in.

After breakfast, the two men and bear cub returned to the car to head to their next destination. It was about 11:00 a.m. at this point.

"Alright, so," began Jacob. "Last year we went around and observed Canada's national monuments. What do you want to do this year?"

Matthew froze in his seat, not quite sure how to respond. He didn't think about this. There really wasn't anything he had a particular desire to do at the moment, but he'd feel bad wasting his father's time all for a quick breakfast and nothing more.

As Matthew thought in silence, Jacob looked to the sky and noticed a descending plane. Wait, could it be...?

"Actually, let's go to the airport really quick!" declared Jacob suddenly. "It won't take long, I promise! Keep thinking of something while I drive."

Matthew sat confused for a second before complying and began to brainstorm again.

It took a decent forty minutes to reach the nearest airport. All throughout the trip, Jacob's phone vibrated with texts. He knew who they were from. He was honestly suprised those two showed up so early. He'd have expected them to arrive much later, not that he was complaining.

As they reached the parking lot, Jacob told Mattie to wait by the car while he went inside to find someone. Matthew was once again confused, but obeyed calmly, leaning against the car door.

"Who are you going to meet?" asked the curious nation.

"Now that's a surprise," stated his father, obviously proud of himself. Soon, Jacob disappeared into the building.

Canada waited by the car for a few minutes before he saw his father approaching. He sent a smile his way and stood upright to get back in the car.

What he didn't expect to see was...

"B-Britain? Papa France?" gasped Matthew in delighted shock.

There, standing behind his official father, were his two very first fathers, both of them smiling happily. France was the first to react upon seeing him.

"Oh, my little Matthew!" cried the Frenchman in delight as he ran and enveloped his darling son in a big hug. Matthew laughed with joy as he was lifted up and spun around like a toddler by the man. Kuma wasn't too happy though, growling annoyed as dizziness overtook him.

"Oh, sorry Kuma," apologized Mattie.

"Happy birthday, Matthew," spoke a familiar British accent.

Hearing his name fall from the Englishman's lips made Matthew smile widely.

"Y-you said my name! You remembered!"

"Of course, Canada! It's your birthday, how could I forget?" This only made him happier.

Luckily, Jacob's son didn't notice the threatening glare his father directed towards Britain. A glare that said _**"I dare you to call him America, I fucking DARE you."**_

\--

As the four of them traveled through Canada in Jacob's car, Francis and Matthew talked joyfully and animatedly about various topics. For the most part, they spoke English, allowing Britain to occassionally offer his own input on the conversation. Then they began speaking French.

Francis was the first to begin speaking as he asked Mattie a question. And whatever the question was, it made Matthew's face go many shades of red. Matthew replied in a shy and horrificly embarressed manner, crossing his arms like a humiliated child. Francis just laughed and responded with something that only made Mattie's blush worsen by fifty or so shades.

Jacob groaned in annoyance, overhearing the whole discussion, and hissed at Francis with the French equivalent of "Knock that off or I'll have England throw you into the oncoming traffic!"

And so they stopped speaking French, much to a concerned Arthur's relief. Let him be the one to tell you it's not fun being trapped in a car full of people speaking in a language you don't understand. He only knew a few basic phrases, but that was about it. And he only knew them because Francis constantly said them to him to piss him off.

"Anyways," moaned Jacob in irritation. "Have you thought about what you'd like to do for your birthday, Mattie? It's about 12:45 now, just so you know." His tone softened as he spoke to his son.

Matthew smiled whole-heartedly.

"Honestly, I would just like to travel around my country and visit my citizens. I don't often have the chance to really interact with my people because of my work, so it'd be nice to do so!"

"Oh, my little Matthew, as pure and sweet as always!" purred Francis pleased as he patted his son's head.

"Sounds like a swell idea, lad!" declared Britain happily.

Jacob shrugged simply and responded "Sounds good to me."

And so their long drive began.

\--

Throughout the day, the four personifications drove from city to city, from province to province, simply visiting Canadians of all shapes and sizes.

They visited farmers who walked through their crops weeding, watering, and gathering. Upon seeing Matthew, they greeted him joyfully. The three nations and single continent conversed with them for a few minutes before leaving them to continue their work. Matthew thanked them whole-heartedly for their dedication before returning to the car.

Next, they met townsfolk of various occupations: teachers, architechs, officers, etc. They simply chatted with them, walked with thwm, learned about them, and shared their lives with them.

Matthew felt his happiness skyrocket from being so connected to his people. Arthur and Francis felt affection for the young nation flourish as they watched him go along. Jacob could feel warmth where his heart was located just by seeing the sight of his son's joy-filled expression.

Today truly was a perfect day.

It was around 8:45 p.m. by the time their visits were finished. As Jacob drove on through the darkening dusk, Francis let out a yawn and mumbled something in French.

"What was that?" asked Arthur confused.

Jacob, who was getting slightly drowsy himself, answered gently.

"He said he's getting sleepy and you two should probably head to your hotel."

"Hotel?" murmured Mattie inquisitively.

"Yep," replied Arthur. "We're staying at a nearby hotel. Who in their right mind would travel to another country and not stay even a single night?" He chuckled as he glanced at Matthew's shocked face.

"O-oh! That's great! How long will you be staying?"

"Until Alfred's birthday. That way we can spend a few days with you and I can easily reach America to celebrate with your brother."

"Oh, awesome!"

Jacob chuckled at his son's obvious excitement.

"Well, anything you wanna do to end this day off?" Jacob questioned.

Matthew sat in silence for some seconds, cradling a nearly unconscious France on his side, before finally replying.

"I'd like to visit Justin Trudeau."

"The Prime Minister?"

"Yeah."

"Would you kindly let us off outside our hotel before you go?" insisted Arthur politely. "Not that I don't wish to visit Mr. Trudeau with you, but Francis might pass out if we wait any longer and I do NOT wish to carry him."

"Sure thing," said Jacob as he made a quick turn.

\--

With France and England at their hotel, Canada and North America made their way to Justin Trudeau's abode.

Upon seeing Canada, the guards outfront moved aside and allowed the pair to enter. Once inside the building, they met Trudeau in his office.

To say the man was surprised would be an understatement.

"Canada!" exclaimed the Prime Minister. "How are you? Happy birthday!" He held out his hand to shake. Matthew shook it happily.

"I've been well. What about you?"

"Just fine, Canada! Oh, hello North America!" Justin chuckled. I almost forgot you were here. Jacob just smiled.

"It's cool, most people do."

The three men talked amongst themselves for about two hours before Canada had to head home.

As Jacob slowly parked outside of Matthew's house, he heard his son yawn. Smiling, he led the sleepy nation into his home and brought him to his room.

"Did you have a good birthday, Mattie?"

His son could only nod and smile. He was so tired.

"Well, I hope you sleep well. I'm gonna head off to bed. See you in the morning."

Jacob hugged Mattie one more time before exitting his room and making his way to the guest room. As he changed into pajamas and turned off the lights, he smiled cheerfully.

Another successful birthday to add to the list.

**\--**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Part one of North America's birthday series done! Next up is America, eventually! Should be much shorter.
> 
> Hope you enjoyed! 
> 
> Also, sorry if the Prime minister segment was off in any way. I don't live in a country with a prime minister.

**Author's Note:**

> Now wasn't that some well-needed Romano fluff?
> 
> Also, feel free to pitch ideas to me for future one-shots. I don't have many ideas right now, so some free ones would be nice!


End file.
